beach house

my favorite part about going away
to the beach at chincoteague 
once every three or so years 
was exploring the rental house. 
i searched for evidence about 
the people who owned the place. 
photographs hung in the hallway 
(were they stock photos 
or did they really have 
two beautiful
brown-haired children?). 
the monopoly game was missing 
the dog playing piece (the most
important one). the mystery
novels wearing worn & cracked
spines, aching from use (did they
re-read their mystery novels?).
in bed after days spent 
with my pink feet in soft 
sifting sand i tried
to imagine the lives of 
the home owners. all the houses
in chincoteague were named
& ours that particular year
was the "blue egret." i saw
plenty of egrets there but
none of them were "blue"
enough for my 4th grade
definition of the color.
the first people i created
were two brothers, they had
grown up together & never
married. they came here only
once or twice a year to fish
in the canal. the one brother
dreamed of catching a shark
(impossible?). 
the next were an elderly couple,
too tired to amble through
the sand  so instead they'd 
just park their car at the beach
& play board games, one 
time losing the dog monopoly 
piece down the cracks in the seat.
the final was a single young 
woman. she had bought the house
just to create something for
other people. she never read
the mystery novels, those used
to be her mom's. she wanted
them to get some use. 
she never visited & sometimes
forgot that she owned the blue egret.
i want to be like her if i could
ever own a beach house. i want 
to lay clues to the renters
about who i might be. strange
sculptures on the end tables,
a protein shake blender, photographs
of all kinds of people, no same
person in two pictures.
the children staying there,
whose parents are watching 
television or making pasta
in the kitchen, they will 
find the clues, they will
lay awake in bed & fantasize 
about the house belonging 
to world travels or artists 
when in fact the place will
just belong to me: a quiet man
parking his car alone by 
the beach to watch the 
sun turn orange then pink
then dark.